Houston Airport — I walk through the airport with foam earbuds lodged in and nothing playing. This gives a trippy sonic separation from the bustle around me. I pull off into an eddy, an empty shuttle loading area, and sing.
I can’t hear myself singing per say, but rather feel the sensation of it through my bones. I wonder, in my stuffed ear state, whether I’m actually singing loudly and off tune, the classic walkman pose, or very quietly, the inconspicuous busker getting no tips.